


Fast Times at the Royal Zoo

by downlookingup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Zoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/pseuds/downlookingup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne work in a zoo. Hijinks ensue. </p><p>Written for Jaime & Brienne Appreciation Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Afternoons at the Bear Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Moment You Fell in Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know. This is outrageously late. But life got in the way and then the muse got in the way and here I am, posting Sunday's prompt on Tuesday. It happens.
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely beta, ikkiM.

Brienne hadn’t seen him but she’d heard him, his voice bellowing her name, screaming at her to get away from the bear, to get behind him, and all she’d thought was, _Gods, he’s going to get himself killed_. She realized the absurdity of it all three hours later as she sat on a hospital bed while a doctor stitched up the wound on her shoulder. A bear had almost killed her and the little girl who’d fallen into the Royal Zoo’s bear enclosure, but instead of worrying about herself or the girl, she’d been worried about Jaime Lannister, the most arrogant, proud and snobbish man she’d ever met. It defied all logic.

And he was still there, watching the doctor work from the doorway. His white undershirt and wrinkled khakis were red with her blood and there was a bruise blooming on his jaw, which he'd smacked against a wall trying to avoid one of the bear’s swipes. By all rights he should have been home changing or in the security office filing an incident report. But he was _still there_.

“You’re a bloody stupid woman, you know that, right?” Jaime was glaring at her like he wanted to burn a hole right through her and she hated the way it made her stomach flutter. “We could have _died,_ ” he said.

She wanted to explain; to make him understand that she couldn’t have left that little girl in the enclosure with those bears; that he should know more than anyone what that was like. But he was glaring at her and she remembered all the unkind words he’d ever said to her, about her height, her freckles, her face. “No one asked you to jump in, Lannister,” she replied.

It was the wrong thing to say. He pushed himself off the doorframe and came to stand next to her, close enough that she could feel the angry heat steaming off him and smell the metallic stench of her blood drying on his skin. The doctor shot him a dirty look but it went unnoticed by Jaime. The full force of his boiling rage, larger than life, was turned on her. He loomed over her and the height difference unsettled her, unused as she was to looking up at him. “You should be grateful,” he hissed. “You’d be bear chow if it weren’t for me.”

She knew she was turning the color of a tomato and that only made her more embarrassed. He was right. Only the Seven knew what would have happened if he hadn’t gone into the enclosure after her. She’d been shielding the girl and he’d pushed them both behind him, distracting the bear until the emergency response team had arrived with the tranquilizer guns. Once they’d been removed from the enclosure, he’d taken off his shirt and pressed it against the claw marks on her shoulder, stopping the flow of blood, until the paramedics came. Brienne wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the look of concern on his face while he’d cradled her head on his lap.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, staring at the doctor’s shoulder. If she looked in Jaime’s green eyes again, she was sure she’d say something outrageous. “I _am_ grateful. Thank you.”

He huffed softly and stepped back, giving her room to breathe again. “Will that leave a scar?” he asked.

The doctor answered before she could. “A pretty big one.” He was an elderly man with gray tufts of hair on his temples and kind, brown eyes. He turned them to her and said, “I think it’s a small price to pay for your life. Two inches or so higher and the bear would have opened an artery.”

Jaime muttered something about “stupid-stubborn” under his breath, and she was about to ask him to repeat it to her face, when his phone rang. He excused himself and went outside to answer the call, and Brienne let out a sigh of relief.

“Your boyfriend seems like a real piece of work,” the doctor said with a smile.

Brienne stiffened. The blush that had been fading returned in full force. “My— _Oh, no_. No-no-no.” She forced a laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just work together.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give offense.” The doctor picked up a pair of scissors and snipped off the end of the thread.

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “It’s just...” She glanced at the door to make sure Jaime wasn’t there and lowered her voice. “We don’t even get along. Why would you think that he was my boyfriend?”

“Well, _I_ certainly wouldn’t jump into a bear pit for someone I disliked,” he answered, sagely. He taped a bandage to her wound and flashed her a cheerful smile. “All done.”

The doctor gave her a prescription for painkillers and a pamphlet on how to clean and dress her cuts. He told her all the signs of infection she should watch out for and then he sent her on her way.

Jaime was in the hallway ending his phone call when she came out of the examination room. “I have to go back to the zoo and give a statement,” he said.

_Of course_. They would want to speak with her and find out what had happened. They would probably fire her. Jumping into the enclosure by herself had been a blatant breach of the zoo’s safety protocol, but she hadn’t done much thinking in the heat of the moment. She’d seen the girl fall, heard her mother’s screams and leapt in. _And then Jaime jumped down after me._ “I’ll go with you.”

“ _No_.” He ran a hand through his blonde mane and she noticed a red spot on his temple where silver hairs had begun to grow. He was covered in her blood but he didn’t seem to care. “Go home and rest. I’ll deal with it.”

Brienne opened her mouth to protest, but the firm set of his jaw brooked no argument. She followed him outside, her shoulder throbbing and her head pounding and her stomach flipping, and waited as he flagged down a cab.

“Don’t let them put the bear down,” she said, before getting in. “It wasn’t his fault. And Alysane would never forgive me if they did.”

Jaime stared at her for what seemed like an eternity and then he laughed, and the sound bounced against her chest like a rubber ball. “You’re unbelievable, Brienne. That fucking bear almost killed you and you’re pleading for his life.”

“I told you,” she growled, “it wasn’t his—”

He rolled his eyes, as if he was tired of hearing her speak. “I’ll tell them, doc. Now get in and go home.”

_Gods, he’s so infuriating._ She wanted to argue, but the idea of changing her clothes and taking a long bath was incredibly tempting. She climbed into the cab, careful not to jolt her shoulder too much. The doctor’s words ran in circles in her head, and she wanted to shut them off, but couldn’t.

When he tried to close the door, she held it open. “Jaime... why did you do it? Why did you jump?”

Brienne saw the smirk cross his face, gone as fast as it had appeared, and was left looking into his clear green eyes and feeling like he was staring at the very core of her. “I dreamed of you,” he said, and she almost laughed but there wasn’t a trace of amusement in his voice or his features.

She didn’t fight the blush that overtook her then, just smiled and took her hand away from the door so he could close it. As the cab drove off, she wished she’d had the courage to tell him she’d dreamed of him too.

 


	2. Mornings with the Elephants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: One Quote

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry for taking so long to finish this! The school semester totally wrung me out, but now it's over and I can breathe (and write) again. I'll be working on the next chapters in the next few days. Thank you for your patience!

Jaime tried not to stare, but there was something utterly hypnotic about the way Brienne’s long, pale fingers broke apart the croissant and brought it to her mouth. She still hadn’t noticed he was watching her; if she had, her hands would have fumbled at their task and sent her breakfast flying to the ground in a nervous frenzy. He’d noticed long ago that she was ill at ease in the company of people—most likely the reason she’d decided to become a veterinarian—but lately, the two of them had managed to settle into an easy companionship. They took turns buying breakfast almost every morning and went out to dinner after work at least once a week. Occasionally he’d come out with a quip, something to make her smile or blush, but most of the time it was enough to sit together and say nothing.

“She’s looking better,” Brienne murmured. She hadn’t spoken since they’d sat down on the bench to drink their coffees and eat their pastries, and it took Jaime a second to figure out that she was talking about Kyra, the elephant in the enclosure in front of them. Right before the bear incident—for legal reasons, they weren’t allowed to call it an “attack” or even an “accident”—Brienne had diagnosed her with a stomach parasite. The animal had grown thin and weak, but the medication Brienne had prescribed had Kyra almost back to normal in a little over a month.

It was on the tip of his tongue to compliment her on her excellent care, but he knew she would only stutter embarrassedly. Instead, he said, “You know how Tormund is with his elephants.” Kyra’s caretaker had religiously followed Brienne’s instructions and now gushed—a bit too much, in Jaime’s opinion—to anyone he saw about Brienne’s “gift”.

She grinned at him, her eyes shining. The blue shirt she was wearing made them stand out of her face like sapphires. “I thought it was bears he liked.”

Jaime scoffed. “Fucking bears. They’re too violent.” Brienne opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “Don’t defend that thrice-damned animal again. I’ve had enough of your compassion.”

“Sounds like you’re in the wrong line of work,” she chided.

“And you sound like my father.” The playful look melted off her face and Jaime cursed himself for bringing his father up.

Brienne had heard the whole sordid tale already. She’d fallen ill soon after she’d been hurt by the bear, an infection that had her hospitalized for three days. He’d gone to see her the night before her discharge and they’d talked long into the night, about their childhoods, their families, Tarth and Casterly Rock, the deep blue-black waters of the Sunset Sea and the shallow turquoise colors of the Narrow Sea.

When the nurse had asked if Mr. Tarth wanted extra blankets for his overnight stay, Jaime had only grinned and thanked her. Brienne had blushed and gaped at him, but she hadn’t corrected him. After the nurse left and the lights went out, the talk had turned darker, to the ghosts that haunted her heart (her mother, her brother, her best friend); to Aerys and his strained relationship with his father. And Cersei. Brienne had sat on the bed silently while he told her about his sister and she hadn’t kicked him out after he was done. He’d fallen asleep on an armchair beside her, his feet propped up on the bed beside hers. The next morning, he’d felt as if they’d pierced the last veil of pretense that kept them from seeing each other clearly.

He rushed to change the subject. “Aunt Genna called yesterday. One of my cousins is getting married next weekend and she wants me to go to the wedding.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, her brow furrowed together, before speaking. “Do you like this cousin of yours?”

Jaime gave a noncommittal grunt. He could hardly remember which cousin it was. Cleos was barely in college, too young to marry. _Or is it Tion who’s the youngest?_ He had nothing against either one, really. He’d remember if he did. “He’s all right, I suppose,” he said, finally.

“And…” She cleared her throat. “Will your family be there?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her concerned tone. “No. There’s one problem, though.” Jaime turned to look at her and she froze with a piece of bread halfway up to her mouth. “Aunt Genna strongly suggested that I bring a date.”

“Oh.” Brienne’s fingers fluttered around the croissant, like he knew they would, and she dropped the pastry into the paper bag on the bench between them. She brushed the crumbs from her hands with slow, methodical movements. “That’s nice. Who are you asking? I’m sure Alysane would love to go with you.”

“I’m asking _you_ , doc.”

Brienne looked up, and her pale, freckled skin flushed bright crimson. “Oh,” she gasped. “That’s…” She trailed off, her eyes darting all around them, as if she were praying for a distraction.

Jaime almost hated the way his heartbeat sped up, as if he were some green boy asking a girl out for the first time, petrified of rejection. _You are,_ the voice in his head said, most unhelpfully. He had never needed to ask anybody out before. The woman he’d spent long nights with—the only one—had always been there, ready to take him in the shadows. This was wholly uncharted territory, but he still desperately wanted Brienne to say yes.

“It’s not a date,” he rushed to say, and hoped that made a difference. “You’d be doing me a favor. Otherwise, I’d have to let Aunt Genna set me up, and that never works out.”

“Right. Well, I’d love to help you out,” she said, fishing the croissant out of the bag again. “I–I mean, I wouldn’t mind. I’d be glad to.” She shoved a big piece of bread into her mouth, and Jaime wondered if it were just so she wouldn’t have to speak again.

A simple “thank you” would have sufficed, but he felt a persistent need to fill the silence. A stream of meaningless words poured out of his mouth and he wanted to kick himself. “Great. Thanks. That’s good. It’s gonna be fun. You’ll love it. Thank you.” She merely gave him a half-smile with her mouth full and nodded in acknowledgement.

They finished their meal in an uneasy silence, with him trying to catch her eye so he could crack a joke, and her avoiding meeting his eyes at all costs. It was such a change from how comfortable they had been just a few minutes ago that he wondered if he’d made a mistake. She hadn’t turned away from him after he’d told her all the awful things he’d done—he was infinitely grateful for that—but he couldn’t expect her to ignore it completely. He wouldn’t have if he were in her place.

He was about to tell her to forget it, that he didn’t want to go to the wedding after all, when she stood up. “I should get back to the clinic. I’ll see you around,” she said, and walked away.

Brienne had only taken a few steps when she turned around again. “Next weekend, you said?” Jaime nodded, and she gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Wear a blue dress,” he said. “It goes well with your eyes.”

A quick blush spread over her face and neck, and she tripped over her own feet in embarrassment as she scurried away. Jaime smiled as he watched her disappear around the corner. Suddenly, he hoped that Aunt Genna would like Brienne—he didn’t quite know why it mattered, but it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikki is a wonderful beta and friend, and she always knows exactly what to say when I'm having a crisis of confidence.


	3. Nights in Dreamland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Favorite symbolism

He’s in the bear pit again, without a stitch of clothing, but he can’t remember why. No child has fallen in. He can’t even see the bear in the shadows. Only her. _Brienne_. She’s next to him, naked as well, her body tall and lean and powerful. In the dim light _(It’s nighttime, why didn’t he notice before?)_ she almost looks beautiful. There is a sword in her hand, glowing blue with starlight. She puts a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder, making him shiver. _What lives in the darkness, Jaime?_

_A bear,_ he wants to say, _all black and brown and covered with hair_. But there are other creatures in the gloom. _A pride of lions_. Their amber eyes watch them hungrily and he recognizes one pair in the midst of them all, bright green like ancient wildfire. The lioness’ lips pull back over her sharp teeth in a cutting grin, laughing at him. _Sister, why am I here?_

_This is your place now,_ she snarls, but he doesn’t want to be in the dark. Brienne’s light next to him is the only thing keeping the shadows at bay, but it’s not enough. There is another sword in a puddle before him and it shines beneath the water like a torch, but when he bends down to take it, there is only a bloody stump in the place where his hand should be.

He screams.

* * *

 

She is in a circus, which has inexplicably appeared in the middle of the Royal Zoo. The human resources manager is breathing fire in a slinky red dress that matches her hair and the keeper of the snake exhibition dances sensuously with a midnight-black cobra. Alysane, dressed in tails and a top hat, makes the bear balance a rubber ball on its snout. The tinny, cheerful sound of a player piano fills the air, and the sticky-sweet smell of cotton candy is all around her, and multicolored balloons and joy and laughter.

Arya is next to her suddenly, a pack of large grey wolves trailing her like obedient children. _Come on, Brienne, he’s waiting._ Arya takes her hand and hauls her through the Zoo until they reach the marble fountain by the entrance. One of the wolves tugs at her clothing and that’s when she realizes she’s wearing her mother’s marriage cloak, a shabby, frayed thing of rose and blue patchwork, with golden suns and silver moons stitched all over. The last time she’d seen it, she had been ten, snooping through a cedar chest in her father’s house. It had been too long for her then but it’s the perfect length now, dragging on the floor only slightly. 

Jaime is by the fountain, a red cloak draped over his right arm. It conceals his hand and for a moment she’s afraid, but he holds both his hands out to her and there’s no blood and she breathes a sigh of relief. He’s warm to the touch and his hair glints in the sunlight and he grins at her the way he does, the way no one else ever has before.

She smiles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you were looking forward to a scene at the wedding... sorry! This fic's been planned for _months_ , but I hope the next chapter makes up for it a bit.


	4. Sick Days at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Favorite thought one has about the other.

When he opened the door, Brienne couldn’t help but think that Jaime looked like half a corpse and half a god. He was only wearing green plaid pajama bottoms, and the mottled bruises on his stomach and ribs were in full display. That, along with his sallow skin and the dark circles under his eyes, made him look like he had just risen from the grave, but it gave him an air of handsome ruggedness too. If it hadn’t been for the bright red seat belt burn on his neck, one could have almost imagined that his bruises were the result of wrestling a crocodile in a muddy river in the Red Waste.

“About damn time,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. The right one, encased in its bright yellow cast, hung heavily by his side. “Did you bring it?”

Brienne rolled her eyes and gave the paper bag a shake. “Of course I did. Can I come in?”

He stepped to the side. “Sure. Be sure to call the coroner after I drop dead.” He turned on his heel—a bit unsteadily, she thought—and went inside.

“That’s not funny,” she said, following him.

Jaime flopped onto the couch with a groan and covered his eyes with his left arm. “You’re right. It’s not.”

Brienne brought the prescription bottle out of the bag and set it down on the coffee table. It had been a week since the car accident, but only three days since his discharge from the hospital, and he was still weak and battered and in pain. The Zoo had granted him a leave of absence, since he obviously wasn’t well enough to do much more than sleep and eat.

Judging from the state of the living room, he’d been doing plenty of both. There were pillows and sheets on the couch; candy wrappers, empty bags of potato chips and empty boxes of cereal everywhere else. “Have you had any real food today?”

Jaime let out a loud yawn that made him resemble a lion, with the way his blond hair was strewn over the couch armrest. He stretched his arms over his head, wincing when the movement pulled his sore ribs too far, and his pajama pants slid dangerously down his torso. “Potato chips aren’t real food?” he asked, with a smirk. She didn’t know if he was smiling at his own childish definition of food or if he’d seen her eyes tracing his lean body, but she blushed all the same.

She turned away. “Of course not. I’ll make you a sandwich.” Brienne went into the adjacent kitchen and focused on digging through his refrigerator, instead of on the dangerous way his pants sat on his narrow hips. She shrugged off her jacket and laid it out on the counter, feeling a little too warm for her liking.

After a few minutes, she brought him a sandwich on a plate and a glass of water, and sat on a nearby armchair to watch him eat one-handed. Jaime watched her as he did so, his eyes lingering on the bandage on her cheek. Brienne had only peeked under it briefly at the hospital, but she’d seen enough to know that the scar would be one more thing on the long list of things that made her inadequate. She shifted uncomfortably and turned away, preferring to stare at the blank television screen, rather than be witness to the way he was scrutinizing her.

“I’m sorry,” Jaime said, suddenly. “Knowing me is be bad for your health.”

Brienne scoffed. “You saved me from getting _mauled_. That’s the opposite of bad.”

“I should have been more careful. If I’d been paying attention, I would have seen him.”

The accident had happened as they were leaving the hotel in Lannisport to return to King's Landing, and no one had been to blame but the goat farmer who had swerved off his lane and slammed into their rental from the side. Brienne had been lucky to get off with just a concussion and a cut on her face, while Jamie's hand had been wrecked. The surgeons had managed to save it, but it would take months of physical therapy to get it back to what it had been before the accident. He should have been more sorry about the state of his own hand instead of her face. _It’s no great loss_ , she thought, resignedly. 

Brienne nodded towards the pill bottle on the table. “Don’t forget your painkillers,” she snapped.

With a roll of his eyes, he ate the last of the sandwich and chased a pair of pills with a gulp of water. Then, he stretched out on the couch and covered his face with his arm again. “Do you have to go back to work?” he asked.

She sighed and settled back more comfortably on the armchair. “No, I took the rest of the day off. I had to drive across the city to find a pharmacy that stocked that medication. I really don’t know why you’re against generic brands. It’s all the same.” His mouth quirked up at that, but he didn’t reply. After a while, he seemed to have fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

 _I should go home_ , Brienne thought, and stayed seated.

She stared at him as he dozed, thankful that he couldn’t see her. He didn’t look like _half_ a god like this, with his eyes closed and his face relaxed, without all the mocking and mischievousness he usually hid behind. Jaime was a bit of a jerk—a big one. She knew that. But there was more to him than that. 

 _He saved me from the bear,_ she thought. _He could have died, but he did it. And he danced with me at the wedding._ She hadn’t danced with anyone since Renly had rescued her from humiliation at her high school prom, but Jaime had danced with her. He hadn’t done it to make fun of her or to save her from embarrassment, but because he _wanted_ to. They had stepped on each other’s toes and been reduced to a mess of giggles long before the waltz had ended, but for a few happy minutes, she hadn’t felt like a freak in a blue gown. 

Her heart swelled to remember how gently he’d held her waist, how strong his shoulder had felt under her hand, how proudly he’d beamed at her after their first—and only—perfectly executed turn. She’d wanted to kiss him on the dance floor, and she’d wanted to kiss him on his hospital bed so he would wake up sooner, but now, watching how the gold and silver hairs on his chest trickled down his stomach until they disappeared under the low-slung waistband of his pants, she wanted something else. She wanted…

“Like what you see?” 

Jaime’s voice, gritty with sleep, jolted her out of her silly daydream. She didn’t know how long he’d slept and she’d drifted, but the stiffness in her limbs told her it had been a while. Jaime had a lazy, lopsided grin on his face, and Brienne realized she had been staring at his crotch. Her breath caught in her chest. Was it bulging suddenly? 

She blushed violently. “I—I wasn’t—”

“It’s okay. You can look,” he said, lifting his good hand to slide down his stomach. Brienne followed the movement in stunned silence. Just a few inches lower and his hand would be inside his pants, touching his—

Brienne jerked to her feet, her face flaming. “I should go.” She hurried towards the door, grabbing her jacket from the kitchen counter as she passed and shrugging into it, but before she could leave, Jaime was in front of her, blocking her way and looking every bit like the golden Warrior.

He backed her against the wall until he was so close that all she could see were his eyes, green and gold and glassy. “I like it when you stare,” he whispered, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, his lips prying hers open. He put his good hand on the back of her neck and pulled her body flush against his. Somehow, her hands had ended up on his bare shoulders, and when his tongue slid into her mouth, her own did the same. 

Brienne’s head swam with the heady taste of his tongue, and _gods_ , she wanted to follow this rush wherever it led, to feel his hand kneading her naked breast instead of pawing at her over her clothes, to touch him and taste him until there was nothing else but he and she and skin and breathing.

 _This is wrong_. The pills were muddling his thoughts, making him think that she was someone else or that he felt something he didn’t really feel. The Jaime she knew would never spare a thought for her in _that_ way, and it was up to her to put a stop to this madness before it ruined everything.

“Jaime, wait,” she gasped, wrenching herself away from him. He stared at her blankly for a moment, and she recognized in his green eyes the exact moment when he realized what he’d done. 

He took a step back and then another. The look of horror that swept over his face made her heart break.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t—” A voice in her head filled in the blank. _I didn’t mean to kiss your ugly face. I didn’t mean to sink so low._ Jaime would never say that. Brienne knew him well enough to be certain that he’d try to let her down easy, and she didn’t want his kind words just then. She only wanted to leave.

“It’s okay.” She forced herself to smile, while trying to ignore the sickening somersaults her stomach was doing and the burning in her face. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Jaime neared her slowly, with his good hand out, stopping just short of touching her. “No, that’s not—”

She stepped out of his reach and opened the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Don’t go.” He said it so softly, she wasn’t completely sure he’d said it at all, but she ignored him nonetheless. If she had to spend one more minute in his presence, she might crumble in humiliation.

“I’ll see you later,” she said and left.

Once she was safely inside the elevator, Brienne allowed herself the indulgence of replaying the kiss in her mind, trying to memorize how Jaime’s tongue had felt in her mouth, so warm and slick and slow. _I kissed him back_ , she thought, her stomach sinking. If he remembered the kiss, he would remember that. He’d be appalled that she could think that he really wanted her. 

 _He’ll take pity on me._ Brienne couldn’t bear that. She had wanted to kiss him so badly for so long, but not like that, not like a mistake or a meaningless carnal impulse or a fuzzy memory that he would forget as soon as the drugs wore off.

When the elevator doors opened, she shoved the thought away, along with the memory of that ill-begotten kiss. She would lock it all up in a safe box in the back of her head and it would all be as if it had never happened. If he got to forget, so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just one more chapter to go! Maybe two. I haven't decided yet.
> 
> Once again, thanks to Mikki for her wonderful suggestions.


	5. Late Nights at the Clinic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: One scene

Jaime hated Zoo Nights. There was a particular type of man that never failed to show up: young, moderately attractive, and affluent enough to get drunk on small, overpriced drinks. They yelled at the animals and harassed the female staff, but Jaime usually just asked security to escort them out.

None of them had ever tried to pick a fight with the doc, though, and Jaime found himself sitting in the veterinary clinic with a black eye, a cut on his forehead and a throbbing right hand. He wasn’t anywhere close to being sorry about it, but he wished he’d used his left fist instead.

“Seven hells, doc, take it easy,” he hissed, trying to pull away from Brienne’s rough hands. The cut had stopped bleeding, but it still throbbed like a sonofabitch, and Brienne wasn’t helping, with her violent scrapes of gauze against his open skin.

“Stay still,” she grumbled, taking hold of his chin and pressing the alcohol-soaked cotton against the skin harder than before.

Jaime grunted and ducked away from her. “Are you this rough with the animals?”

She glared at him furiously and picked up a fresh bandage. “You shouldn’t have hit him,” she said.

It was the third time she'd said it and every time, it enraged him. That redheaded asshole deserved what he had gotten and more. “Brienne, he called you a —”

“I know what he called me.”

“Then why are you mad at _me_?”

“Because!” she snapped. “He could press charges. You could lose your job.” She taped the bandage to his forehead and moved her gloved hands down to press firmly against his eye.

He winced. “What are you _doing_?”

“Checking for an orbital fracture. You’re too impulsive sometimes. Thoughtless,” she spat.

 _I was defending you, you stupid woman!_  Jaime wanted to shout. He couldn’t even remember how it had happened, exactly—one moment he was standing a few feet away, listening as that man insulted her; the next, they’d been grappling on the ground, his left hand gripping the man’s pretentious knitted tie while his right hand punched him over and over and over. Brienne had pulled him off the man and then she’d _apologized_.

“Who was he? Your ex-boyfriend or something?” Her jaw tensed and she said nothing, and something sparked up in Jaime, red-hot and fuming. “Fucking Stranger, he _is_? You went out with that—that _yuppie_?”

“My dad and his are friends. He took me to a school dance once.”

“Oh, how nice. And how was it? Did you let him put his hand down your shirt?”

She shot him a withering scowl. “ _Yes_ , and then he humiliated me in front of the entire school. I punched him and got suspended.”

Jaime’s mouth went dry. “Oh.” He swallowed thickly. “I should have just tossed him in the cage with the monkeys. They would have taken care of him.”

Brienne’s lips quirked up slightly, but she let out a heavy sigh that made her shoulders slump. “Words are wind, Jaime. And guys like him are never going to stop being jerks, no matter how hard you hit them.”

He supposed she was right. But he still didn’t regret it. “Well, it was worth it just to get you looking me in the eye again.”

A splotchy blush spread over her face and the sliver of neck that her shirt left exposed. She shoved an ice pack into his left hand and picked up his right like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. “I—I don’t know w—what you mean.” She cleaned his knuckles with quick strokes, much gentler than before, but clearly wanting to finish as soon as possible. “You should go to the doctor tomorrow and get some x-rays done. You might have refractured it.”

They’d been dancing around each other for weeks, ever since that day in his apartment, and Jaime was sick of it. He missed Brienne, even though he saw her every day. He missed having breakfast by the elephant enclosure, comfortable enough with each other to not say a word. He missed making fun of her and making her laugh. He missed having her look at him with those eyes.

He dropped the ice pack and grabbed the hand she was tending to him with. She was shaking. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have apologized before.”

She shook her head jerkily. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Brienne turned red again, tore her hands away from him, and stepped back until she was pressed against the counter opposite the examination table. He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I thought you wanted it. Obviously, I was wrong.” Jaime felt the blood rushing to his face and he laughed. “Fuck, I haven’t had a crush since high school. I don’t know how people do this.”

“Crush?” Her voice was barely a whisper and she’d turned white as a sheet. “On _me_?”

Jaime rolled his eyes. If she was faking surprise to save him the embarrassment of having been as obvious as a teenager, she was damn good at it. “Who else, doc?”

“Since when?”

He shrugged and gave her a wan smile. “Since the bear, maybe before. I can’t remember anymore.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“So you could have turned me down sooner?” The signals he’d gotten at the wedding had been loud and clear. During one of the dances, he’d dipped her so he could kiss her, but she’d burst out laughing in his face. That whole weekend they’d spent in Lannisport, he’d only played love songs in the rental, and she’d changed the station every single time. Jaime jumped off the table and smoothed down his shirt. “Sorry, doc. I was trying to preserve my dignity.”

“I—I wouldn’t have.” Brienne was bright red again and her eyes were wide and blue enough to make his breath catch in his chest. “I wouldn’t have turned you down.”

It was as if all sound had been sucked out of the room except for Jaime’s heart pounding in his chest. He turned her words over and over again in his head until he was sure he’d heard her correctly. And then he only had to take three steps until he was in front of her, slipping his good hand into her hair and pulling her lips down to meet his. Brienne’s lips were soft and her mouth was sweet, like a breezy summer afternoon.

Her trembling hands came up to rest on his shoulders, and then she was grabbing at him, pulling him closer, pressing her lips firmly against his. He let his tongue slip inside her mouth, felt her own slide against his, and it felt like touching a live wire, every nerve in his body alive and thrumming for her.

He pushed her against the counter and kissed her harder, feeling her whole body moving against his, her hands in his hair and around his shoulder and on his back. When she pulled back to catch her breath, he dove into her neck, nipping and sucking on the freckles that covered her skin. He’d been wondering for so long what they would look like up close and they didn’t disappoint.

“Oh, gods, Jaime,” she panted in his ear. He tugged her shirt out of her trousers and slid a hand over her bare waist. Her skin was so soft and warm. His right hand still ached but he reached down and gave her delicious ass a squeeze, and she moaned. “Oh gods oh gods oh gods.”

Jaime's cock stirred in his pants. Every time he bit her neck, she bucked her hips against his, and he groaned. “If you keep squirming and saying ‘oh gods’ like that, you’re gonna make me embarrass myself.”

She pulled him away from her neck and rested her forehead against his. “I can’t breathe.”

Jaime laughed. “Take me home, Brienne.”

“What, _now_? It’s not closing time yet.”

“Who cares? No one will miss us.”

“I can’t. There are things to do—”

“Pod can cover for you.”

“Jaime—”

He ground his erection against her and she moaned. He wanted to hear that sound all night long. “I’ll make it worth your while...”

“Fine,” she gasped. “But can we get something to eat first?”

“You’re thinking about food? Seriously?”

“I’m hungry. I’m bandaging up your stupid face instead of eating.”

“You’re not enjoying this?” He dipped his head to her neck again to make his point.

“Jaime...”

“Just tell me. You don’t have to kiss me out of pity.”

She blushed. “I’m not—”

“I can survive without your kisses, doc,” he said, grinning. “My life will be extremely dull without you whispering ‘oh gods oh gods’ in my ear, but I’ll live.”

Brienne rolled her beautiful blue eyes, but returned his smile. “Jaime, shut up.”

“Make me,” he said.

So she did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Last chapter. My take on the golden bitchslap.
> 
> This fic was weirdly difficult to write, I don't know why. It took too damn long. I'm sorry if this last chapter is a bit OOC for Jaime. I just needed to get it out there and finished.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting. It means the world to me.


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